The Last Time
by xoquinnevans
Summary: Quinn Fabray has all but given up on her new life in Brooklyn when a chance encounter with a handsome blonde manages to turn her entire world upside down. Rated M for sexual content.
1. Prologue

"We shouldn't be doing this."

Even as she breathed the words against his sweaty neck, Quinn wrapped her legs tighter around Sam's waist, forcing him deeper with her walls. Quiet little whimpers of approval tumbled from her lips with each and every thrust of his hips, her own moving and pulsating in perfect rhythm.

She was right, of course - they shouldn't be doing this. It shouldn't be happening merely two feet from her front door, the short distance the young couple had managed to travel before they just couldn't stand the wait any longer. It shouldn't be happening at all, not when they both had other obligations to attend to and promises to be kept.

It seemed inevitable, though. Maybe it was - maybe they were destined to wind up in this situation, over and over again, despite their best intentions and deepest wishes. Maybe they were supposed to meet on that fated sidewalk all those weeks ago, and maybe they were supposed to wind up taking a step neither of them planned on taking.

It certainly felt that way to him, anyway. It felt like the fates had aligned and their wants and needs were cast aside in some sort of cosmic love affair, even if it was horribly wrong in almost every conceivable way.

"It'll be the l-last time," Sam choked out, groaning as he pressed frenzied kisses along her collarbone. It was all so overwhelming - the thoughts, feelings, and raw pleasure coursing through his body as he continued to push into her at a steady rhythm. God, why did she have to be so downright intoxicating?

His whispered promise was met with a sharp nod from Quinn, although they both knew it wouldn't actually prove to be the last time. The two had made that same vow countless times before, and they would make it countless times after that night. Regardless of how hard they tried, their 'last time' never seemed to come. They both wondered if it ever would.


	2. Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter

_**ONE MONTH PREVIOUSLY**_

"That'll be $42.87, Ma'am."

The cashier's monotone voice pretty much summed up Quinn's entire day - drab and boring. She sighed softly as she handed over her debit card, her hazel eyes not meeting his. Instead they fell, choosing to inspect her pearly white acrylic nails entirely out of boredom.

Just like this day, Brooklyn was turning out to be undeniably dull. She missed the thrill and passion of Manhattan, where every corner turned unveiled new adventures just waiting to be had. Moving away from her parents' influence was supposed to be a positive move for her, but she was beginning to realize it was a far cry from anything good.

"Thanks," Quinn muttered under her breath as she picked up her bags of groceries, her thin arms just barely wrapping around them. She should have known better than to pick out so many fruits and vegetables, but she hated having to stop at the store more than once a week. It served as just another reminder of the conveniences she had lost in the move.

The bag seemed to shift and groan under the weight of the food inside, but she forced herself to keep walking forward. To stop would be to admit she had made a mistake, and Quinn Fabray wasn't about to do anything like that.

Although there were a few precarious moments, Quinn finally made it outside the doors. An almost triumphant smile spread across her full lips just as -

_"Crap."_

A particularly large apple went rolling across the sidewalk, drawing forth a groan from Quinn's lips. It would be nothing short of a miracle if she made it home without dropping anything else.

Lips puckered and eyebrows drawn together, Quinn momentarily considered the idea of trying to pick up the fruit. It didn't take but a second's thought for her to realize she didn't really want to eat - or even touch - something that had graced New York City's streets, but apparently she took a little too much time for someone's liking.

"I think it's a goner, Ma'am."

Quinn nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of a distinctly Southern voice ripping her from her thoughts and causing a few more fruits to spill from the top. She groaned loudly just as an unfamiliar pair of arms reached out and caught each and every item that tumbled from her bags.

"Um…" Quinn started, her eyebrows drawing even closer together as her gaze drifted over the stranger now holding two oranges and a perfectly green batch of bananas. Idly, she wondered if now was the time to run, but the Armani suit clinging to every muscle of his toned body made her pause.

He certainly didn't look like a hobo, although she vaguely recalled reading something about some mass murderers attempting to look wealthy in order to draw in innocent victims…

"Relax, Ms. I'm not going to hurt you." The wide, lopsided grin that spread across the unfamiliar man's full, pouty lips was enough to make Quinn want to trust him. Thankfully, years of living within New York City's limits kept her from handing over her Social Security Card and a key to her apartment, but he was darn near handsome enough to pique her interest.

"I'm fairly certain that's what any mass murderer would say to his next victim," Quinn muttered, annoyance lacing her tone. She was defensive by nature, and a chance encounter with a total (albeit handsome) stranger on a late evening in Brooklyn certainly wasn't making her feel very trusting.

There was a beat of silence as both parties considered the other. Te stranger's eyes swept over her frame once, twice, three times before finally finding and holding her gaze once more. Deciding to break the steadily growing awkward silence stretching on between them, Quinn gestured towards the oranges and bananas with her elbow. "Now that you've saved my fruit from an early death, would you mind sticking them back into my bag? I really need to get home…"

The smile on the stranger's face grew as he shook his head, almost as if shaking himself out of a trance. "Yeah, yeah, of course. I didn't mean to…" He trailed off without finishing his sentence, moving closer towards Quinn in order to place the fruits back into the bag.

Once the items were back where they belonged, Quinn took a few steps backwards in the direction of her apartment. Something about this man intrigued her, but she had long ago learned meeting strangers in the City streets wasn't a good idea.

"Thanks for your help." She forced a smile, before turning on her heel and heading towards her apartment. His voice, calling out from where he stood just moments before, caused her to pause.

"Are you sure you don't need any help? I could carry those bags for you."

Quinn shook her head without turning around. Even if he was handsome and well dressed, she wasn't about to let this random guy find out where she lived. That would certainly be a recipe for disaster. "I've got it. Thanks, though."

Five seconds later, the unmistakable sound of a car running over a particularly large orange refuted her words. She froze mid-step, her eyes eyeing the mess in the streets.

Before she could even think of taking a step forward, large hands began taking the bags from her arms as an unmistakably deep chuckle came from just beside her.

"I'm not going to ask this time," he informed her, smirking as he took all three bags from her arms. He made carrying them look easy, although the slight ache in her right arm told her the act was anything but.

Quinn didn't bother saying a word; instead, she started strolling towards her apartment, her perfectly white tennis shoes slapping on the concrete with each step. She was a little annoyed the guy didn't leave her to carry her own stuff, but she supposed that was explained by the southern twang in his voice. Southern guys in movies were always coming to the rescue of supposedly helpless women.

She spent the nearly seven minute walk in silence, although her unfamiliar companion attempted to strike up a conversation more than once. He asked questions and told a few jokes here and there, but she didn't really pay him any attention. She just wanted to get home, where she could soak in her bath tub and forget about the humiliation of being too weak to carry her own groceries.

By the time they had arrived, Quinn had worked herself up into quite the annoyed frenzy. She stopped at the bottom step of her building, turning towards the man with arms outstretched. "This is where we part ways. I'm not dumb enough to let some stranger into my place," she warned him, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow lifting in something of a challenge.

Her annoyance was met with an amused chuckle from the blonde, which only served to annoy her further. "I'm not really a stranger anymore. This is technically our second conversation," he pointed out, winking at her teasingly.

If he hadn't been so handsome, it might have been a little easier to resist his charm. Still, she found a way to do so.

"Our second and last. I can carry my own groceries from now on." Without waiting for him to make a move, Quinn stepped forward, her arms wrapping around her stuff. She would have to set everything down to get into her apartment, but at least she could rid herself of the guy here.

"Have it your way, Ma'am," he said, his apparently ever-present grin still lingering on his lips. Once the bags were securely in his grasp, he began to back away, a hand lifting to wave goodbye.

Not bothering to offer him even a smile of goodbye, Quinn turned on her heel and began to climb the steps. She was just placing her bags on a little table outside her building's front door when she heard his voice drift over to her one last time in the evening air.

"Name is Sam Evans, by the way. Enjoy your night, Miss!"

She didn't reply.


End file.
